


Your Touch Chases the Night Terrors Away

by TheatricallyColorful



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bad Dreams, Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, FrostIron - Freeform, Loki Feels, Loki Has Issues, Loki Needs More Than a Hug, M/M, Odin's Bad Parenting, Tony Is Great at Cuddles, Tony is Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheatricallyColorful/pseuds/TheatricallyColorful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the Pursuit of Happiness by Kid Cudi. Loki dreams of the fall, the shattering, mind-numbing cold, and the betrayal biting through his bones, weaving a time-old spell of hate and bitterness only Tony can break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Touch Chases the Night Terrors Away

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing this kind of thing. Hope it turns out alright :)

It was cold, so ridiculously cold.

Even with the knowledge of his Jotunn heritage, the reminder of blue skin and the ridges that adorned his skin freely did nothing to chase away the cold.

He is falling through the void, a feat unheard of.

It is painful and exhilarating at the same time. Liberating, and constricting both.

Liberating because the longer he falls, the longer he unwinds the secrets, the pain, the  _consuming, gnawing emotions_ that tie him together. He comes undone as he falls.

But the fall imbibes him with something more.

The blood of his real father stains his hands,and the fall has only heightened the sensation. And the hate he can barely keep at bay for his golden brother, the mighty Thor, seems to intensify. As he loses everything he was or could've  been in the fall, he regains something on the downward spiral. 

His hate, the singleminded purpose for vengeance rings out, along with the  _whoosh._

It wraps around him, tight, constricting, putting back together broken bits of what Loki used to be. Or something that vaguely resembled him.

But he's still weary.

The fall is tiring, and taunting voices echo in and out of his consciousness, laden with poison, sharp, biting whispers that dig into his skin and stay there, refusing to come out.

The way he did not fit in, the unworthiness that sank within his heart and made him drooper, grow close to the ground.

So much pain, so much desolation.

Words he said and that bounced back at him, slapping at him.

His heritage, the accursed blue, the painful truth.

And Odin, whose silence would speak volumes.

_You disappoint me._

_You will never live up to Thor._

_Why can you not emulate Thor? He is such a fine, mighty warrior. Leave the magic arts be. They are for the women._

_YOU ARE NOT MINE. YOU NEVER WILL BE._

And Loki wants them all to stop, to never come back and haunt him so relentlessly.

But they crowd in faster, in different voices, disappointed dulcet tones, and smug proclamations.

_We knew it you never belonged in Asgard You are the enemy! LEAVE US YOU MONSTER YOU SHOULD BE KILLED We cannot love someone as evil as you-_

And he prays. God, how he prays. To be set free of it all.

For even Frigga, his beloved mother, and his lovably slow brother joins in the chanting, and he is so close to-

He wakes up, cocooned in sweat slicked blankets, lying on a soft bed, with a warm body on his, and his lover's voice repeating in urgent tones, "Hey Loki, wake up! I'm here. It's a dream. You'll never go back. I promise that. Wake up."

He opens his eyes and revels in one soul searching moment in those wide chocolate brown eyes, dilated with worry and adrenaline.

And he exhales, the breath whooshing out of his mouth, and willing those bad memories to just leave along with his breath and maybe then he'd get even a sliver of peace.

He doesn't realize he's shivering until Tony wraps familiar, competent arms around him to still him. He relaxes in his lover's arms, letting the tension drain away.

When he registers finally the sensation of Tony's lips against the shell of his ear, murmuring comforting babble that man seems to specialise in. He relents, letting himself go, a boneless, broken body in his arms.

When Tony deems him okay enough to talk, which he is, for Loki only wonders at times how he can know Loki in every way possible, he does talk.

"I dreamt of the fall again," he whispers against Tony's hair.

Tony stiffens momentarily, before relaxing again. Loki didn't really like to talk about the fall, the aftermath of clutching at the broken Bifrost, with Thor's pleas, and his outright refusal.

"What happened?" he asks edgily, testing the waters to see if Loki would snap. He doesn't, however. He is too exhausted by the brief but terrifying foray back to a dreaded place.

So Loki tells him, and Tony grits his teeth at the voices, like he has half a mind to chase down all those who wronged Loki, righteous or not, and Loki feels a flare of relief, and dizzying emotion.

"Were the voices really true?" Tony asks.

Loki nods defeatedly. "All but Frigga and Thor's taunts. They could never do that, even under extreme duress."

Tony lets out a sigh. "That's some heavy shit, Reindeer Games."

Loki's lips tug slightly at the corners automatically at the mention of the wellworn nickname, but he cannot stay lighthearted for long.

Tony senses it, of course. And wraps his arms even tighter around Loki protectively.

What else, goes the unasked question.

"It was the hate that ruined it all," Loki murmurs softly. Tony's head snaps up at the word hate.

"For who?" he asks warily, because this might turn into another  _Thor sucks he should go die_ kind of rant.

"For my brother, for my father, for the Asgardians. For the life I led before destiny led me to you," Loki says, turning to face him.

What Loki means to say is that the fall could have been lifechanging. He would have been someone else. He would not have fallen under Thanos' control.

He could've been better. This pain would not have existed.

Tony snorts. "Please, babe. Your life would be seriously lacking without my stellar presence." Loki makes a face and Tony allows Loki to be the little spoon tonight, because it'st the only way he knows how to help.

Tony is an expert cuddler, Loki remembers.

He wouldn't have expected that, given that Tony used to be a major playboy. He'd expect a body turned against him, cold, and unfeeling. But instead he gets a face full of annoyingly cute Tony Stark.

He likes that.

"Your touch chases away the night terrors," Loki admits to Tony, who grins.

"Of course babe. Night terrors don't get along with night irritations and sleep delayers," he winks.

Loki rolls his eyes and grins a little.

He can still feel the cold, somewhere, the hate festering at the back of his mind. But persistent Tony seemed to scrub away at the infection, leaving a healthy dose of more mischief and something crazy.

That crazy little thing might be called love, but Loki won't admit it anytime soon.

He snuggles in closer.

"Good night, Anthony," he murmurs drowsily and drops off to sleep.


End file.
